She Was
by conspiracy.chastity.blasphemy
Summary: Falling in love is most definitely easier for two teenagers who have only just met than two teenagers who have lived every second of their lives together. High schoolAU. Fluff. NOT UPDATED REGULARLY
1. She Was Beautiful

**She Was**

A/N: So this is my first fanfiction, and you will find that I am a HUGE Tegan and Sara fan. So here's a fair disclaimer to any lyrics you might spot. Also, this is a disclaimer to all of Adventure Time (and Frozen?)

* * *

Ch. 1: She Was Beautiful

_Marceline Abadeer's Pov_

She was beautiful. Her beauty was rivaled by no one, and although my best friend, Elsa, would argue that her crush was hotter, I still believed that Bonnibel Princeton was the most gorgeous girl at Arendelle High.

So beautiful that her laugh, even from the other side of the cafeteria, sent warm chills coursing through my chest, onto my back, and out to the farthest reaches of my limbs, making the hairs on my arms and the back of my neck rise.

I close my eyes and feel my lips twitch upwards, and I lean forward so that my long and messy obsidian black hair covered my pale face. After a moment or two of resisting the powerful urge to imagine that Bonnie had laughed from a quirky pick up line of mine and not some lame ass joke that one of the jocks at her table shared, I regain control of my fluttering heart and try to catch up with the conversation taking place at my own table.

"... it's not like they aren't _okay_ together or anything, it's just that I think Elsa would be way better with her than that mother fucker Hans." At this I decided to come out of my cloak of hair.

It was a blushing Elsa that spoke next. "W-whatever, I think we all know that she's better off with 'that mother fucker' Hans than some introverted nerd like me."

"Yeah, okay, she'd be just another normal couple if she were to stay with Hans, but I have a lot of classes with her, and she's definitely not the normal type," spoke a girl with short chocolate brown hair, Rapunzel. She used to be 'that super conservative girl with the crazy long blonde hair' and then freshman year came around and now she has a boyfriend, Eugene. He's better known as Flynn, and he decided to speak up next.

"Guys, at football practice a while ago I overheard that Hans was, uhm... let's see. How do I say this politely..." He paused to put his hands over Elsa's little brother, Olaf's ears, much to the energetic freshman's dismay. "Well he talked rather disgustingly proud of how he was... taking advantage of Anna." A collective gasp was sounded throughout our table of friends.

I decide to chime in with my own findings of Elsa's crush, drawing the attention of the table to me. "I saw them arguing in the hallway once on my way to band practice." I find a loose string on one of my bracelets to turn my own attention to and play with it, "Hans was saying something about he'll tell people about a secret of Anna's if she didn't come over to his house later that day." I look back up to Elsa, "She didn't look like she would do anything for him until he brought that up. It was like her fighting spirit just up and left her body."

I could see that Elsa was thinking of getting up and punching the shit out of Hans right there in the cafeteria by the way her eyebrows drew together, and I could see that she was beating herself up for not being courageous enough to protect Anna by the way the rims of her eyes reddened.

"And now it's Marcie's turn!" Bellowed Kristoff, a muscular, dark blonde haired boy.

I verbalize my frustration and irritation with a groan as the table has a heated conversation about all the things they've heard about my love interest. But just like always, I already know everything they're saying. I've already thought of all the 'What if's they're thinking.

I've already heard all of it, far before the words spilling from their lips right now.

* * *

After school has ended I find myself at her locker, waiting. I quickly become bored though, and decide to take out our shared IPod and my ear buds, plugging them into the device to listen to a playlist I made when I was feeling particularly at peace with the chaos of life. It takes three songs before she finally comes into view, and I take out my ear buds. I skim over the outfit that I, unfortunately, did not get to see her dress in this morning. She's got a pink scarf, pink t-shirt and also pink Converse with grey skinny jeans that hug her body in ways that make me bite my bottom lip.

"Come on, let's go see what sorry excuse of a home Simon put us in this time." She pulls out her phone to find out what their address is and we depart from the school campus in silence.

And like usual we walk so closely together that our hands brush with every matching stride we take until I take a hold of a few of her fingers with my own digits. And like usual I feel my heart race and breathing become erratic until she properly grasps my hand and presses our palms together, intertwining our fingers.

* * *

_It was near midnight of August 5th and all was quiet, save for an incessant rain,__ pounding on the roof of an old house with a fury like no other. With a crack of thunder and momentary illumination of lightning, violent rain ripped through the roof and dripped onto the floor of the house, disturbing a middle-aged man who occupied this said house from his reading. He cursed as he rose from his place on his old leather couch and placed yet another bucket underneath the new leak in the roof._

_Not five minutes after the man had resumed his reading the chime of the doorbell suddenly reverberated through the house, disturbing him once again. "Now who could possibly be at my door at this late of an hour?" He asked himself. But once he had opened the door he found no one in sight who could have possibly rang his doorbell, but instead he found two small infants who could not have been any older than two or three months in age, sleeping peacefully. They were delicately wrapped in blankets; the paler one with a tuft of black hair atop its head in a dark red blanket and the other with wispy dark blonde hair in a light pink blanket._

_The man took another look around to make sure that the person who had rang the doorbell was not still lurking and may still want the children, and found no one. So with a sigh, the man grabbed them up and took them out of the cold night into his old warm house._

* * *

Marceline's Peaceful Playlist

Kaki King-

Fences

The Fire Eater

Night After Sidewalk

Kelvinator, Kelvinator

Doing The Wrong Thing

Skimming the Fractured Surface to a Place of Endless Light

Tegan and Sara-

Terrible Storm

Burn Your Life Down


	2. She Was Gone

**She Was**

A/N: So, something really stupid happened and what I had planned for this chapter is gone. So out with the old and in with the new, right?

* * *

Ch. 2: She Was Gone

_Bonnibel Princeton's Pov_

I awake in a bed. An _empty_ bed. With a sigh I shake off whatever disdain has already settled over my heart this morning and give myself the chance to have a good start to my day.

I open my eyes and I am given a searing bright light in return that causes pricks of pain in my temples. Promptly, I sit up and arch my back into a prolonged yawn while rubbing the sleep out of my eyes. When I open my eyes again, I clearly see that I am very alone in a very still room.

I look to my left and see sunlight pouring through navy blue curtains cascading down the length of a window. I feel my face soften and the room is a peaceful quiet that I would gladly dwell in for hours.

I look to my right and immediately my eyes find a pair of old worn out red converse. My warm smile dissipates into a cold grimace and the room is now eerily quiet. I abruptly find myself drowning in the intensity of emptiness I feel, gasping and struggling for the stale air of the room to fill my needy lungs. The sound of the sheets rustling underneath my grasp does not register into my mind as I stand.

Instantaneously, I smell her scent and the sound of my heart thundering violently within the cage of bones under my skin becomes apparent with its erratic beat coursing through every fiber of my being. Willing my body not to succumb to the wishes of the ground, calling me down to lay upon it, I whimper and defeatedly collapse to my knees on the ground, losing all positive energy harboured within me the moment my bare legs met the ground.

I draw in air through my lungs and moments later, an unnerving groan rises from the depth of my throat to escape my lips finding myself tucking my knees snug into my chest.

Finally, I let myself ruin what could be a good morning, and release whatever hold I had on my rampaging thoughts.

_She should be here. Why is she not here? I need her to be here. She should be back by now. I need her to be here with me right now. I need her to be back and here with me right now. I need her to hold me right now._ Another whimper and hot tears spring out of my eyes, traveling my cheeks and nose to find a destination in the carpet. _Why is she not holding me right now? She needs to be here right now. She needs to hurry up and come back to me now. I want to feel her presence._ Yet another, more drawn out whimper escapes my lips and I begin rocking. _I want to hold her. I want to see her. I want to hear her voice. I want to feel her skin underneath my fingertips, embracing me, comforting me._

I begin to sob hysterically. _I need to feel her lips massaging the worry out of my own. I need to feel her loving me._

I dwell within a brutal cycle of these thoughts, passing through my mind over and over again. Once through... twice... three times... four... Again and again.

Steadily the slow, consistent repetition draws me out of my pitiful bout of panic and anxiety, and the thoughts condense into a simple _I need her. I need her. I need her. I need her. I need her now. I need her._ My rocking slows to a stop, my sobbing subsidies to a succession of soothing deep breaths, and I feel my tears dry.

With a sniffle I rise from my heap of pathetic sadness on the ground, and viciously wipe away my fatigue. A glance to my wrist to verify that I do, in fact, have a hair tie, and in a few movements that my sore hands have memorized, my hair is fixed into a surely messy bun.

Another sniffle and my arms find themselves protectively crossed over my torso, grasping at the fabric of my shirt that otherwise lays over my ribs. I stand still for a few moments, feeling the cage of bones expand and contract to accommodate my every breath.

I take a quick scan of the room and find a dark red bear with blue button eyes. I walk slowly over to where it is, resting on a bookcase. One step... two... three... four... In a moment of curiosity, I tilt my head and wonder, _What drove me to make this? Oh yes, I remember..._

* * *

It was our mutual 15th "birthday" today. The day that Simon found us on his doorstep, August 5th.

I sit, lazily swaying on our favorite swing set near the old man's house, waiting for her to walk out from around the corner with her backpack upon her and her bass case in hand. A soft breeze rouses my gaze from the ground to the sky and I see what could easily be a painting. Vivid red flirts with striking yellows in the sky. There's pools of pinks crashing into mountains of purple. The beauty is overwhelming and I decide to return my gaze to the ground once more.

With I sigh I close my eyes and l let trepidation encircle me, and I finally begin to worry about where she might be. The minutes roll on with great lethargy.

I notice that the street lights have flicked on and the sun is hidden by the swelling curvature of the Earth, moving on to give sunrise to another part of the world. The once calm wind sweeps across me with a bite, and my hands leave the cold chains of the swing and grasp at my jacket zipper, sealing my warmth to my body.

More minutes pass and I start to see the stars, peeking out of their silky curtain of black sky to illuminate the land below.

Suddenly my trance is broken by a whistling and I snap my head in the direction I think it to be coming from. Instantaneously a smile is plastered on my face when I see a tall, slender figure carrying a bass case in hand and a backpack upon them. They have absurdly long, disastrously messy, obsidian black hair, and bear the same outfit of a red and black flannel shirt, grey skinny jeans, and beaten up red converse, that she did when we left the house this morning.

I get up from my resting spot on the swing and walk over to her, "Marceline!" I scoff, "Where have you been?" I am now right in front of her and she stares at me quietly.

She gently sets down her bass case, and slips off her backpack, reminding me of my own, still resting on my back, with only a few items within it.

She takes a step closer to me, and then another small step to wrap her arms around my waist. My ear meets the space between her chest and her neck and I feel her set her chin on top of my head. My arms slowly move and wrap themselves up and around her neck, pulling her just a little closer to me, allowing me to kiss her cheek.

"I was really worried about you." I whisper.

"I know." She replies, and I feel her chest vibrating, "I'm sorry."

"No you're not." I utter, "Because you'll do it again and again, and I'll still worry about you every time."

She sighs and tightens her grip on me, forcing me to shuffle a little closer, "I have to provide for you guys somehow."

"I wish you didn't." I quip.

"I know." She softly replies, "I know."

We hold each other for a long while until she pats my back, the gesture telling me we should head home now.

I stare blankly at my feet for the majority of our walk home. For the remainder of the walk I had stared down at Marceline's bright, crisp, and clean red Converse. _Her feet are a lot bigger than mine. _I thought. It's a fact that I won't ever need to acknowledge in my day to day life, living as her "sister", but I find myself committing her shoe size to my memory.

I would mull it over in my head later that night, I decided. Why do I really want to remember everything about her, it's not like she's going to, god forbid, die too soon or get adopted without me.

Right?


End file.
